In her article on the orphans of Rwanda, the author shares one young orphan’s hope for a better future.
(click on thumbnails for full-size images)
Late
one evening in January of 2005 I finished the introduction to General
Dallaire’s Shake Hands With The Devil: “Almost fifty years to the day
that my father and father-in-law helped to liberate Europe—when the
extermination camps were uncovered and when, in one voice, humanity
said, ‘Never Again’—we once again sat back and permitted this
unspeakable horror to occur. We could not find the political resources
to stop it. Since then, much has been written, discussed, debated,
argued and filmed on the subject of Rwanda, yet it is my feeling that
this recent catastrophe is being forgotten and its lessons submerged in
ignorance and apathy. The genocide in Rwanda was a failure of humanity
that could easily happen again.” Incensed and saddened by this failure, I
traveled to Rwanda a few months later. Inspired by Dallaire’s vision, I
too wanted to do something positive for the orphans of Rwanda.
Gisimba Memorial Center is located on the outskirts
of Kigali, Rwanda’s capitol which is spread out over seven hills and is
nestled in the neighborhood of Nyamirambo. Enter the orphanage’s
grounds and you are greeted with the shrill of little boys playing
European football (our soccer). Beyond the dirt and grass soccer field
girls docilely align—each intense in her knitting. Clad in striped and
ripped hand-me-down skirts and bright sandals, or bare feet, girls from
five to nineteen knit tiny scarves. The older girls eagerly tutor their
younger sisters, all knitters easy-going yet focused. In a sea of
knitters, my tutor for the photography project, Denise Kiyetesi awaits
my arrival. Everywhere are clusters of kids playing, chatting, laughing.
Regardless of which orphan you talk to, all share
in a love of their home, thanks to Damas Gisimba’s overwhelming support.
His mission that children live a healthy and happy life is a
challenging mission to achieve, but he has invested his entire life, and
the investment continues to pay off. Gisimba Memorial Center is above
all a tight-knit community of brothers and sisters who look after each
other with complete devotion.
Just ask Alex Nsengimana, a Gisimba orphan who now
attends high school in Wynona, Minnesota. Alex still keeps in touch with
Damas and fondly describes his father figure as a “very kind and loving
person. He is a great parent. He is one of the heroes in Rwanda.” Alex
recalls a difficult time in his life which led to his coming to Gisimba
Memorial Center: “My Auntie 
got
so sick she put my brother and I at Gisimba in March of 1995. At first
it was kind [of] hard because I did not [know] some people but after a
while it was great.” Alex and I met in October of last year, via the
internet and my photographs, and we speak frequently. When Alex and I
first began chatting, we were both excited to share a passion for and
commitment to Gisimba Memorial Center and its orphans. Alex hopes to be a
priest one day.
Though thousands of miles apart, Alex and Denise
remain family, and each has a story that would break your heart before
inspiring you to action. While Alex receives full sponsorship here in
the states, Denise’s sponsorship is less substantial. In fact, when I
returned from Rwanda in July of last year, I made it my mission to raise
money to send Denise to college. Anywhere you go in Rwanda, you meet
people affected by the genocide, but because of the lingering pain, you
don’t ask questions—you simply listen with respect and compassion to
their stories. One afternoon, I had a chance to listen to Denise's
story.
"After genocide I live with my mom and then after 2
years she died. And then I had my elder brother so he saw that I wasn't
going to be able to continue my schooling then he brought me here, at
the orphanage. He's the first-born. He studies at ULK, University
Liberty of Kigali."
16, soon to be 17, Denise came to Gisimba in
1997 at the age of 8. Denise's father was murdered during the 1994 genocide, and in
1997, when Denise's mom died of malaria, Denise's two older brothers
and sister were separated. When Denise told me about her mom, I thought
about an article I’d read in the BBC’s Africa: Focus, on the plane ride
over to Rwanda—something about a malaria net costing $2.30, not even
the price of a Starbuck’s Frappaccino. (This would be only one of many
moments that would make me question humanity and our priorities—a mother
dead because she couldn’t afford the cost of a, by American standards,
really cheap bug net.) Nevertheless, my own mental anguish didn’t
register, and Denise continued her narrative. She remains thankful to be
at Gisimba. She was too young when her father was killed to remember
him. Though she recalls her mother vividly, she's too sad to say much:
"She was sociable and she liked people and she liked advising us."
Behind
us on the wall is a woven mat typical of Rwanda; on it are pinned
photos of the orphans over the years. Orphans sharing similar stories of
parents lost to genocide, malaria, AIDS. One image shows Denise on
stage, mouth open wide, singing the Gospel.
Shortly after Denise arrived at Gisimba, she, like
Alex two years before her, was whisked away to Uganda with the 16th
group from the orphanage to sing with the African's Children Choir. I
try to imagine those 24 orphans first up north in '97, then in
California, Utah, Texas, New York, Canada, and Alaska in '98, then
England in 2000. I try to imagine Denise leading them with her sonorous
humming but I can't.
Instead, my thoughts fixate on the reality of today: what will happen to Denise and the other orphans at Gisimba?
"The most important thing is that I study. There are 23 girls in my room--all ages.
We take care of the kids. We stop them when we see fighting. We have to help our chaperone, bathe them and dress them."
Last year, a Canadian nurse donated the supplies to
partition Denise's once undivided room into tiny mini-rooms, each
containing 4 bunk beds and 4 girls.
Denise is much happier now that they don't have to live in one huge
space. In a place where privacy is rare, sharing space with 4 is as
close to privacy as it gets.
"My
life? The good things? I went to America. I forgot all about being
lonely. So we live together, boys and girls. We advise each other."
Denise grows thoughtful. Outside, the sky flickers with the changing
clouds. Sunshine here in the Nyambiramba neighborhood is intense, so the
pulsing gray offers relief to the orphans who are playing with their
skinny goat, chasing him around in circles. On the other side of the
soccer field, a thin girl in a dress sucks on sugar cane, the threads
catching between her teeth. She wears a huge smile, delighted to watch
the goat chase in front of her. The din and echo of boys yelping is a
sweet contrast to this melancholy interview.
Denise breaks the silence, "Sometimes I see things
that can make me unhappy. But then when it comes to that time I remember
that I have God watching over me. I love to sing so much. Christian
songs. Whenever I'm unhappy, I just sing to myself and it makes me feel
better." Denise's faith in God is unwavering, but it doesn't make up for
her longing for her mother. "Sometimes I think that if I had my mom, I
could be happy. Not having one to solve my problems is hard. Like you
know you want something that you could have if you had parents. Here at
Gisimba, we don't get all but we get some."
I
ask Denise what she most wants. "Clothes, shoes. What you have to know,
we have to study and make our future." Denise loves chemistry and
biology. Like all the other orphans, when asked what she likes to eat,
she grins broadly and lists the foods all American kids prefer too:
French Fries, hamburgers, ice cream. One food, however, that American
kids don't eat very often, is at the top of her list. Rice! In
Kinyarwanda, rice is "umuceri" so following the interview, the other
little orphans began calling their sister Umuceri. Gisimba rations its
meals, the main ingredients of which are beans, potatoes, posho (salted
corn meal), beef, rice, pineapple, bananas, carrots, tomatoes, and
onions.
Denise continues her listing. "I don't like a
person hurting me, hurting my feelings. I don't like people fighting. I
don't like seeing people suffering." I ask her to list what she owns. A
bed. 
Clothes,
a school uniform that's dark yellow and white, blue jeans. She owns a
Bible too, but no bicycle. "We had some bicycles that some people
donated, but they did not work."
“I want to study to be a doctor.” Specialty? “The
heart. I would like to help orphans when I grow up. I would like to help
little kids." Born July 10, 1988, Umuceri watched her two older
brothers join the rebel soldiers led by now President Paul Kagame's
"invading" army from Uganda. Each had not yet reached 7th grade when he
swapped schoolbook for soldier's machete.
A father murdered, a mother dead from malaria,
Denise remains hopeful. I think that her hope can inspire us all. In
fact, I see Denise years from now, making her rounds as a doctor,
comforting younger orphans with kind words and endless hugs. Of course,
it's going to take a lot more than donated rice to make that happen.
It’s going to take continued collective action to feed, clothe, and
educate Denise and all the orphans of Rwanda.
Though we failed Rwanda in 1994, we needn’t fail again. There’s so much we can all do to help Denise Kiyetesi and her brothers and sisters maintain hope—and realize their dreams. Let us not forget this “recent catastrophe” from which hundreds of thousands of children continue to recover and rehabilitate. If you are interested in helping the orphans at Gisimba Memorial Center, please visit “Orphans of Rwanda” at www.orphansofrwanda.org/getinvolved.php#donate for more information, or email me at camera_rwanda@ yahoo.com
About the Author Kresta's photographs depict the beauty and joy of Gisimba's children, as well as the reality of their sometimes conflicted present and painful past. Community, spirit, and hope further mark Kresta's photographs that are intended to raise awareness about the orphans of Gisimba Memorial Center, Rwanda, and other African countries. Kresta's photography calls attention to victims of genocide, malaria, and AIDS. A soon-to-be retired teacher, Kresta intends to pursue photography on a full-time basis. Her work has been used by Book of Hope, Opportunity International, as well as other non-profit organizations and can be seen on various websites, including, most recently, www.pearlchildren.de in Uganda. You can see more of Kresta's work at: http://camerarwanda.blogspot.com/
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